


The Adventures of Barnes and Tomatoes

by kayliemalinza



Series: The Brooklyn Buchanans [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Food, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2018-07-27 06:46:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7607875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayliemalinza/pseuds/kayliemalinza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s spring 1944, five miles beyond enemy lines, and Bucky will not shut up about tomatoes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Adventures of Barnes and Tomatoes

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr as part of [the Brooklyn Buchanans 'Verse](http://kayliemalinza.tumblr.com/tagged/the-brooklyn-buchanans). There's a [follow-up ficlet](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7607929) in [Selkiverse](http://archiveofourown.org/series/517531).) This ficlet can be read on its own.

It’s spring 1944, five miles beyond enemy lines, and Bucky will not shut up about tomatoes.  
  
“My aunt–My aunt Rhoda, she has some land outside the city, you know? And she grew tomatoes in her garden–” Bucky steps neatly over a wet log, looking back over Steve’s shoulder at Dum-Dum, who started this whole thing by comparing their field rations to his mother’s pot roast. “Every year she would bring us a whole bushel, then another little basket on top of that just for Steve, because–”  
  
“They don’t need to know this, Bucky,” Steve says, but Bucky just smirks and weaves back, putting Steve in front of him on the path. Now he has direct access to Dum-Dum, who’s probably still thinking about pot roast. His moustache is twitching.  
  
“Steve had just been laid up for a couple of months with, I dunno, the flue or something–”  
  
“Rheumatic fever,” Steve says. He pulls his shield from his back and uses it to push up a whole mess of dripping branches for the Commandos to walk under.  
  
“Right, rheumatic fever,” Bucky says. He grins at Steve as he passes, like he didn’t come by to read to Steve every day, pick the sketchbook off the floor when Steve’s hands got too weak to hold it, cry when he thought Steve was asleep.  
  
“So the kid was pale as a ghost, right?” Bucky keeps talking, his voice fading slightly into the thick ambient noise of the forest as he heads up the trail. “And Aunt Rhoda–it was his first week out and my Aunt Rhoda sees him and decides it’s her mission to ‘put some color in his cheeks–’”  
  
Steve groans. There’s a wave of tittering all up the line of Commandos in front of him. Traitors.  
  
Jones and Dernier say something to each other–Steve’s French is getting better but they’re too sly for him to make it out–and then Jones waves him up. “C'mon, Cap, go on ahead.”  
  
“Are you sure?” Steve says. “Wouldn’t want you to miss the rest of the story.”  
  
Jones flashes him a smile. Everyone knows that Cap could shut up Sergeant Barnes with a single word and he never will, not if Cap’s ego is the only thing at risk.  
  
Steve sighs and trudges back up to the front of the line.  
  
Bucky got behind Dum-Dum somehow, and switches between leaning forward to chatter over the big man’s shoulder, and half-turning to talk at Morita and the rest of the fellows. “Well, Steve _hated_ Aunt Rhoda–”  
  
“You Aunt Rhoda was a generous and compassionate woman,” Steve cuts in sternly. He elbows Bucky a little as he passes him. “I just wanted her to stop pinching me.”  
  
Morita wrinkles his noise in sympathy. Bucky takes a swig from his canteen, the corners of his mouth curling smugly up on either side of the spout.  
  
Steve turns his eyes back to the trail; they haven’t seen a soul in hours, and if the maps are right they won’t run into any towns or encampments for another half day at least. This is all wilderness. He pulls out his compass to check that they’re on track, then Bucky starts up again:  
  
“Steve took it as a personal offense that anyone would dare to, you know, be concerned for his wellbeing–”  
  
Steve rolls his eyes. There’s concern, and then there’s _coddling_.  
  
“–and so he refused. Outright _refused_ to eat any of those tomatoes.”  
  
Morita gasps. Jones says, “Oh _no_.”  
  
Steve snaps his compass shut and turns around. “I never said a single rude word to Aunt Rhoda. I just want to point that out. I even told her thank you for the tomatoes–”  
  
“–and then you hid them in your room so your mom wouldn’t find out,” Bucky says.  
  
Jones calls out from the back of the line: “Cap, please tell me you did not let that food go to waste.”  
  
“Hell no,” Steve calls back. “Bucky knew where they were. He came over every afternoon and ate 'em whole, like apples.”  
  
Dum-Dum barks out a laugh, his teeth visible from behind his moustache.  
  
Bucky narrows his eyes at the back of Dum-Dum’s head. “They were beautiful tomatoes,” he says defensively. “Really tender, and flavorful.”  
  
Dernier mutters something that makes Jones choke on his own breath. Bucky’s giving Steve the sour look now, as if he didn’t bring all this down on himself.  
  
“Alright, men, let’s step up the pace,” Steve says. “I want to make another three miles before nightfall.”  
  
Three miles and a campfire later, Dum-Dum is complaining about the field rations again. Bucky chimes in with a witty “ _Blegh_ ” as he tries to unstick some protein-heavy gunk from the roof of his mouth.  
  
“I bet you miss those tomatoes now, huh,” says Jones. “Eat 'em like apples.”  
  
Bucky smiles through one side of his mouth. “Sandwiches are good, too,” he says. “Slice the tomatoes real thick, put 'em on toast with mayonnaise, some salt and pepper….”  
  
There’s a jumble of appreciative noises, then Steve says: “Tell them about the secret ingredient, Buck.”  
  
Bucky looks at him sideways. Steve’s snuggled down in his bedroll already so Bucky’s big, all knees and curved back, lit-up red from the fire.  
  
Bucky elaborately sucks more gunk from between his teeth and says, “Then it wouldn’t be a secret.”  
  
“Aw, come on, Barnes,” Jones says.  
  
Steve raises his eyebrows at Bucky in a dare, but Bucky shakes his head, admits defeat with the gunk and calls on his canteen for reinforcements.  
  
From behind Steve, there comes a heavy, mournful sigh, and then Falsworth mutters: “ _Yorkshire pudding._ ”  
  
The guys laugh, Morito starts talking about gelato, Dernier chimes in about creme fraiche. Bucky gives Steve a wink and doesn’t mention tomatoes for the rest of the mission.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Adventures of Glum and Tomatoes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7607929) by [kayliemalinza](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayliemalinza/pseuds/kayliemalinza)




End file.
